May You Find Some Comfort Here
by LAXgirl
Summary: Severus Snape has always been haunted by his dark past. But when he gets a chance to redeem himself, will he finally find peace? ONE-SHOT


This is just a quick one-shot that came to me last night while listening to Sarah McLaughlan's "Angel" and wouldn't let me go until I finally wrote it down. Hope you enjoy. 

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated characters are not mine nor are they being used for profit in the telling of this story; nor are the song lyrics which belong to Sarah McLaughlan and whatever record company she's signed under.

_Spend all your time waiting, for that second chance  
For the break that would make it okay  
There's always some reason to feel not good enough  
And it's hard at the end of the day_

It was over. They'd won. Voldemort was dead. And this time there was no chance of him ever returning. He was gone for good. Finally...

But this brought Severus Snape only a little bit of comfort in his disoriented haze of pain. Dark shadows moved across his vision like frolicking spirits beckoning him to follow them into the night. A deep yearning to close his eyes and let himself drift away pulled at his senses, but he fought against it.

He still had so much to do. Still so much to do before he could close his eyes and rest.

"Professor?" a frightened voice called from somewhere close beside him. "Professor, are you alright?"

Snape forced the encroaching darkness back a little through a rapid dint of blinking and looked to his side where another person knelt close beside his broken body. A teenager with tousled black hair and glasses.

_Potter..._

The boy was a mess. Scratches covered his entire body, bleeding and staining his clothes. His glasses were bent and sat crooked on his dirt smeared face. But other than that, he was fine. He would live. And that was all that mattered...

"Professor? Professor, are you alright?" the boy cried, leaning down over him. "Professor, please answer me!"

"Stop shouting, Potter..." Snape weakly choked, trying to swat the boy away. "You're giving me a headache..."

"Professor, are you alright? Why'd you do that?" he cried, still shouting. There were tears in the boy's eyes. For whatever reason, Severus didn't know. Nor did he really care. All he knew was that he was hurting, and the boy's shouting was not helping.

"Why'd you do that? Why'd you step in front of that curse for me?" the boy continued to angrily shout as he leaned over his professor's bleeding body and looked into his dark, clouded eyes. "You shouldn't have done that..." he sobbed, clutching Snape's robes. "You shouldn't have done that... I didn't want anyone else to get hurt because of me..."

Ah... So that was it... The boy was guilty because he'd gotten hurt protecting the arrogant little wonder boy's life. How typical... Always somehow making everything about himself...

"Stop it, Potter," Snape growled, trying to force the darkness from his vision again. But the darkness refused to fully go away. It stayed there, ringing his vision like a dark tunnel.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Snape recognized the fact that this was not good, nor was the amount of blood he saw coming off onto the boy's hands as Potter continued to clutch his robes as if trying to physically shake the answer from him.

"Why?" the boy was still shouting. "_Why?_"

Snape felt the urge to deduct fifty points from Gryffindor, but he held his tongue. It didn't matter what he told the boy. He'd done what he needed to do...

_So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn  
There's vultures and thieves at your back  
The storm keeps on twisting, and you keep on building the lies  
That make up for all that you lack  
It don't make no difference_

The boy had been cornered, trying to fight a force too large to take on himself. The final showdown had finally come. But as always Potter hadn't been ready. At least not mentally, that is... He still refused to accept the idea it was either kill or be killed. And Voldemort knew that.

It had been a brutal battle. Many from both sides had died. But what it had all really boiled down to was Dumbledore's Golden Boy and the Dark Lord. They were the only two that really mattered in this fight. Yet the boy still hadn't realized that.

The Dark Lord would have finished the boy off if he hadn't finally revealed himself as Dumbledore's spy and stepped into the path of Voldemort's curse. The Dark Lord had wanted to make the boy suffer, not kill him right then. It had still been a painful curse though – meant to damage and destroy, but not instantly kill. No, not immediately kill... the Dark Lord was too sadistic for that...

He still remembered the look on the boy's face when he'd pushed him aside and taken the curse full in the chest. It had been painful, but he'd gotten some small amount of pleasure out of it knowing he'd finally done something to outrightly defy his "Lord" right in front of his face. It had been worth it to only see the expression on Voldemort's face when he'd stepped in front of that curse.

The boy, on the other hand, had been horrified. He didn't really remember the details of what happened next. He remembered the boy leaping to his feet, as if possessed by some renewed energy or purpose, and coming to stand over him to face the Dark Lord. He remembered them exchanging several curses – some of them being rather powerful in intensity if he could really tell from where he lay on the ground. He remembered a terrific explosion, and then the Dark Lord's scream, as if he were being burned alive. And then...

It was over. Dumbledore's Golden Boy had finally proven himself the savior of the wizarding world. Voldemort was dead.

But that then brought him back to his current situation. Namely having one particularly annoying student shouting over him, demanding answers he couldn't quite articulate.

"Because I had to..." he whispered, ignoring the searing pain that small an action trying to speak caused.

The boy instantly stopped shouting and stared at him with those bloody green Evans' eyes he hated so much. They reminded him of everything he'd done wrong in his life. Everything he could have done differently to have avoided this pitiful sham of a life he now led.

The boy knelt silently beside him, tears still fresh in his eyes. "You didn't have to..." he whispered. "You didn't have to do that..."

"Yes I did..." Snape softly said.

_I need some distraction or a beautiful release  
Memories seep through my veins  
Let me be empty and weightless and maybe  
I'll find some peace tonight_

A sudden shout sounded from somewhere beyond Snape's range of vision. He couldn't move to see who it was without sending spikes of blinding pain through his torn and shredded chest. Not that it really mattered. The darkness was closing in again.

There were multiple voices now, coming closer and crowding in around him. Snape felt someone kneel down on his other side across from Potter.

"Please, Sir, you have to help him... He stepped in front of a curse and saved me..." Snape heard Potter tearfully plead. It seemed so strange to have Potter of all people crying over him like this...

"Someone send for a mediwitch – quickly!" the new presence said. Snape instantly recognized the voice and turned his head towards it, fighting the darkness off again. He couldn't go. Not yet. He still had so much to do and make up for...

"Dumbledore," Snape whispered, looking up at the old Headmaster's face and familiar silver-white beard. He noticed how much weaker his voice sounded, but tried to ignore it. He couldn't go. He still had so much to do... He couldn't go yet dammit!

"Hush, Severus, everything will be fine," Dumbledore soothed, laying a gentle hand on Snape's shoulder. "You did an excellent job. Voldemort's dead. It's all over now. Just lie back and rest." Snape couldn't help but notice the sorrowful look shining in Dumbledore's eyes. It was as if Dumbledore already knew...

_In the arms of the angel, far away from here  
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear  
You were pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie  
You're in the arms of the angel; may you find some comfort here_

"No... I can't go yet," Snape whispered, a frightened, pleading note entering his dying voice.

"It's alright, Severus," Dumbledore said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You've done an excellent job. You've nothing to be ashamed of anymore. Your debts have been repaid. There is nothing you have to be forgiven for anymore. You're free now. You can stop fighting and rest..."

Snape felt Dumbledore's grip on his shoulder tighten, and knew for once the old man was right. He was finally free. His past sins had been repaid. His sacrifice for the boy had been his last and final act of redemption. He could finally find peace. There was nothing more he had to do. He was free.

As if recognizing his tiredness, the darkness rose up to wrap him in its embrace. But this time he did not fight it. It was time for him to go. He could finally rest.

Dumbledore's hand remained on his shoulder as he felt himself slowly slip away into darkness, reassuring him of everything he'd done to deserve this final moment of contentment and peace. And just before he closed his eyes one last time, a small, peaceful smile spread itself across Severus Snape's face – the first of its kind to ever be seen on the acerbic Potion Master's face.

He was finally forgiven. And he could finally rest... He was free...

_In the arms of the angel; may you find some comfort here_

Fin

Like it? Hate it? Comments are always appreciated. This was my first attempt at a one-shot. Hope you enjoyed!

LAXgirl


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